


How to Be Spontaneous

by dylovan



Category: Rush (Band)
Genre: Glasses, Hair-pulling, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 20:39:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4934491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dylovan/pseuds/dylovan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Geddy needs to loosen up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Be Spontaneous

**Author's Note:**

> first ever rush fic and I'm drunk woooo

Alex Lifeson was lying down on the couch, his legs propped up against the back of the couch, the epitome of boredom. An acoustic guitar was cradled in his arms. Beside him, Geddy Lee was talking on the phone. 

"...Oh, yeah, Neil, that sounds great. I'm actually working on something of my own," Geddy was saying. "Yeah. Lyrics 'n everything..."

It was late summer, 1975. The members of Rush had just started working on a new album. Alex and Geddy were locked away in a farm near Lake Huron, Ontario, communing with nature in order to better their songwriting. It should've been peaceful, but Geddy could be such a perfectionist that he'd end up procrastinating half the day away, making plans and checklists instead of actually working. Right now he was talking with their drummer, who was working on lyrics somewhere else. 

Alex blew a raspberry and stared up at the mildewed ceiling. His fingers rambled over the fretboard, playing something that would become a bit of "Natural Science." An idea popped into his wine-soaked brain. He put his guitar down and surreptitiously crept around to where the phone line met its jack in the wall. 

"Oh, is that right?" Geddy was saying to Neil on the phone. "I never thought about it like that, but I guess we could easily incorporate reggae into—Neil? Hello?" He stared down at the phone, which had abruptly gone silent. In place of Neil's crisp baritone was an empty static buzz. His gaze traveled down the phone line until it reached the floor. Alex was sitting on the white carpet, the power cord for the phone in his hands, a guilty yet hopeful look on his round face. 

"Lerxst!" Geddy said, his voice going all high like it always did when he was irritated. "I was talking to Neil!" 

"You've been talking on the phone all day!" Alex said. "All week, actually. Why don't you stop talking and start doing?"

Geddy's almond-shaped eyes narrowed. He bit down on his lip. "What are you talking about, start doing? Alex, I was talking to Neil."

"You haven't even written any songs yet," said Alex, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. "You've just been talking about it. God, you don't have to plan out every single tiny little note you play. You and Neil are a couple of pretentious...stupid...faux-intellectual dweebs."

"Be careful," Geddy said. "I might just leave you for that pretentious stupid faux-intellectual dweeb."

"You wouldn't!" Alex's blue eyes narrowed. "You know you can't live without me, Ged."

"Neil is a charmer," Geddy said off-handedly. "Nice...facial hair. I've always liked tall men."

"I'm taller than you."

"Like, one inch taller."

"It counts! An inch can count for a lot!"

"I bet Neil wouldn't argue with me over this..." Geddy said, his voice coy.

Alex fell to his knees. "Fine!" he sobbed comically. "I take it back! I love you, Dirk, you're my moon and sun and all my stars—"

His rambling was interrupted by Geddy's thin lips pressing against his own. The whining turned into a soft, subtle moan. 

One of the pros of songwriting in this secluded space was that there were no roadies or wives or family around to see Alex and Geddy's romantic affair. 

"Neil isn't quite as cute as you," Geddy said with a grin. He was still leaning forward into Alex's personal space. His long hair brushed Alex's shoulders, creating a soft curtain that shielded them from the outside world. 

"I'm the cutest member of this band, of course he's not," said Alex. 

Geddy whacked him on the shoulder. He fell back against the seat. His smile faded to a bored half-scowl. "I guess you're right about the 'stop talking, start doing' thing, though," he sighed. "Sometimes it's just hard to start. Know what I mean?"

But of course Alex didn't know what Geddy meant. Alex could play guitar for hours and hours and never tire of inventing new little tunes and phrases. "You just need to get more spontaneous." Alex jumped up to sit on the couch beside Geddy. "Loosen up a bit!" His large, warm hands came to rest on Geddy's shoulders, rubbing away the tension. Alex noticed that Geddy's T-shirt was a couple sizes too big for him, and it looked familiar...wait, Geddy had stolen one of Alex's shirts and was wearing it!

Geddy's body was stiff; he leaned away from Alex. "I'm never loose."

"You're gonna be loose when I'm done with ya."

"That's gross, Lerxst."

"Seriously, though," Alex said. "Even when you're high you're still uptight. You need to develop your sense of spontaneity a bit more."

"I don't have that sense."

"Everybody's got it."

"Fine," Geddy said, rolling his jade eyes behind his oversized glasses. "O mighty Lerxst, ruler of all things unpredictable, tell me how to be spontaneous."

"Maybe start off like this."

And Alex's hands were on Geddy's body, touching him through the soft fabric of the too-big T-shirt; and Alex's mouth was on Geddy's neck, his teeth biting at the sensitive, pale skin there; and Alex's heavy body was pinning him down to the couch. Geddy let out a little squeak. 

"Oh, Lerxst!"

"Yes, my darling sweetheart, angel cake, love of my life?" Alex smarmed. 

"I guess I wasn't predicting that..."

"That's what Rush is all about, isn't it?"

"Hey, we're about order and structure. Music is a science." Geddy's hips pushed forward as Alex rubbed his cock through his tight jeans; his eyes were quickly clouding over with lust. 

"You're a rhythm section guy, of course you'd say that."

Geddy ran out of snarky replies as soon as Alex unzipped the bassist's fly and reached inside to stroke him. "And of course you weren't wearing underwear," Alex said. His voice darkened a bit, his demeanour changed. "Slut..." 

It seemed like Friendly Goofball Alex had disappeared, and Dominant Alex had been released. Geddy's thighs trembled a bit as Alex kneeled between Geddy's legs, continuing to slowly circle his fingertips around the head of his cock. Alex's free hand pulled Geddy's pants down a bit more and clamped down tightly on Geddy's leg, preventing him from moving. 

"Oh, my god," Geddy gasped. "Lerxst..."

Geddy shivered as he felt the guitarist's warm breath puff over his cock. He knew Alex liked it when he was vocal. God knew Alex had told him enough times when they would rest in their post-coital glow. The bassist let out a high, keening whimper as Alex slowly circled his finger around and around, sliding over the sensitive, dripping-wet slit. It felt so good it almost burned him, and Geddy could do nothing but clench at the fabric of the couch and mouth Alex's name. 

Alex suddenly drew back and stood before Geddy. Geddy stared up at him, still panting. "Suck me off," Alex said. As Geddy reached up to his own face, Alex interrupted— "No, don't take your glasses off. And no hands."

Geddy got down on his knees. He could've stayed on the couch, but he knew Alex loved seeing him on the ground, and Geddy loved it too—it was where he belonged. Alex unzipped his fly and pulled out his already-hard cock. He threaded the fingers of one hand through Geddy's soft, dark mass of hair, pulling him in closer. 

Geddy's lips parted to close around the head of Alex's cock. Alex's eyes fell closed as Geddy's tongue pleasured him. "Fuck, Dirk...looks like singing isn't the only thing that pretty little mouth is good for." 

Geddy's hands were clasped behind his back. As Alex pulled him in, his erection bucking against the roof of his mouth, he had to struggle not to gag. His mouth was so full—Alex was so big—he loved this so much. Despite (or perhaps because of) his slight obsession with control and perfection, there was nothing he needed more than to be controlled, and he knew it. Alex knew it, too. God, how many quickies they'd had in a closet backstage right after shows, working off pent-up show energy...how good it was, Alex's spontaneity. 

Alex's cock was down Geddy's throat now, and his hips started to move as he fucked Geddy's mouth. "Stay still," Alex panted, "that's a good boy...Fuck, Geddy..." Geddy's face was burning behind the glasses. He loved this. No matter how much he loved music, Alex's moans would always be his favourite sound in the whole world. Geddy didn't have to look up to know that Alex would be squinting, pouting, moaning sweet nothings into the steamy air, just like he did when he played guitar...Geddy felt like he was the instrument, and Alex was playing him, and it was such a beautiful feeling he probably could've come from that. 

Not today, though. Alex backed off, drawing his cock out of Geddy's mouth. Geddy stared at Alex's huge cock. Saliva was strung from the bassist's mouth to the guitarist's dick in a lazy, sticky parabola. Right now, Alex's cock was the only thing that mattered. 

"Do you think machine head oil would work as lube?" Alex asked. 

"I think so," Geddy said.

"I'll get it." Alex ran to the other size of the room and returned with the tube of thick grease. He sat down on the couch and gave the machine head oil to Geddy. "Here."

Geddy squirted some of the warm, viscous liquid into the palm of his hand and coated Alex's cock in it, his fingers lovingly tracing every vein. "I love your cock."

"Mm..." For once in his life, the guitarist was silent.

"You've got a fucking huge cock, you know that?" Somehow, the crass words and Geddy's matter-of-fact, snarky voice combined to make the sexiest sound Alex Lifeson had ever heard. "And you taste so good. I love it. I've only been with a couple other guys and girls but I think you're the best fuck in the world."

"You too...Mmph. Touch me like that more."

Geddy's slender fingers circled around Alex's member. He was replicating what Alex had done to him. One fingertip slid underneath the guitarist's foreskin and drew a circle around the tip of his cock. Alex cried out loudly and precum dribbled down Geddy's delicate fingers. Alex was nearly sobbing as Geddy bent forward to kiss his cock. Geddy's tongue followed the path his fingers had set before, and Alex began rambling like he did during the end of "La Villa Strangiato." Then the bassist sat back and smiled sweetly up at the guitarist, his bespectacled eyes innocent. 

"I can't believe you're wearing my shirt," Alex mumbled. "Take it off."

"Aw, but Lerxst, I love wearing your clothes," Geddy wheedled. "This shirt smells just like you. It smells like...like home."

"Fine, leave it on. But get up here."

Geddy compliantly got onto the couch beside his bandmate. Alex pushed his jeans down and off, then spread his legs as he lay down on his back and began teasing around his tight hole. Geddy leaned back, supporting himself on his elbows, as Alex's thick, strong fingers poked and prodded at him. 

As Alex watched Geddy moan at his hands, his mental arousal heightened to match his physical arousal. He loved having Geddy like this. The bass player was a mess, his thick hair frizzy and his pale skin beaded with sweat. The fingers of Alex's fretting hand rhythmically pushed at Geddy's opening while his picking hand crept up under Geddy's shirt to trace his slim body and savour the pleasure trail that led from his navel to his slim, beautiful erection. 

Soon the bassist was a hard, wet mess, ready for Alex's cock, his dripping erection sticking up in between their bodies. Alex shifted to strip his jeans, button-down and underwear off. When he was fully nude he got behind Geddy, Geddy's calves resting on his shoulders, his tight ass hot against Alex's cock. 

Alex pushed up against Geddy's ass, and Geddy moaned louder than he had at any point thus far. Geddy's too-big shirt was pulled up all the way to his chest, exposing his belly, and even Alex's blond hair was a mess now; he had a habit of impatiently running his fingers through it when he was turned on. 

"Fuck me, please," Geddy said meekly, the first coherent phrase he'd managed since Alex had started preparing him for a good fucking. His wish was granted, and his back arched and he cried out into their haven, the tremolo of his high alto echoing around the room and sending a jolt of arousal straight to Alex's cock; the guitarist hadn't thought he could possibly get any harder but apparently Geddy's voice possessed magical properties. 

Alex worked himself into the tight hotness inside Geddy, and as the bassist grew accustomed to Alex's oversized shaft pounding into his intestines he began pushing back against his bandmate, forcing Alex into a tight, fast rhythm. Alex's hands gripped Geddy's slim, gently curved hips as he practically tore the bassist in two. Alex let out a deep growl, and Geddy responded with a high, airy whine of desire. 

The give and take between them grew more intense, but maintained the steady rhythm. Somehow, with some combination of the muscles inside him clenching and with his hips pistoning back against Alex, Geddy was controlling them. Alex realized that he was fucking Geddy in a 7/4 time signature with accents on the first and third beat, and it was so goddamn hot. Both of them rapidly built up to their climaxes, Alex's slick steel-hard cock pounding against Geddy's G-spot and forcing him into orgasm much more quickly and with less edging than he would've preferred. 

Geddy's hands formed tight fists and he gasped, his body so rigid and tense that he looked like he was about to explode. "Alex," he wept, "oh, God, Alex, fuck me harder—"

Alex groaned and attempted to oblige, pushing into Geddy hard enough to make his hips rise off the couch. "Dirk, you're so fucking tight," he panted. "Fuck, it's so good, it's so—"

"Pull my hair, Lerxst, please pull it." Geddy's glasses were opaque with fog, but Alex knew that his alien eyes were closed in ecstasy, eyelashes fluttering over his high cheekbones. Alex grasped a good-sized handful of Geddy's beautiful dark hair and yanked it, not too hard, but just hard enough. 

"ALEX!" Geddy actually screamed out loud as he came without being touched, his voice echoing in Alex's ears and his thin body shaking like a leaf in the north wind. He tightened around Alex, driving him out of the rhythm he'd worked so hard to obtain, making him call Geddy's name, and forcing him to come inside him. Their souls seemed to meld together in a frenzy of pure musical pleasure as they came together, at each other's mercy. 

Geddy's voice echoed in Alex's ears as the guitarist felt hot cum splash against his stomach. Similarly, Geddy was reduced to near-painful, inescapable bliss as the guitarist came inside of him. Their simultaneous orgasms seemed to play off each other, far more intense than anything separate they could've managed. For a brief moment each of them had all thoughts of albums and interviews and tours driven from his head, replaced with the thrill of their filthy animalistic rutting. 

Then they both descended from bliss to come back to real life, the reality of their bodies pressed together, damp and trembling. Alex pulled out of Geddy, cum dripping out of Geddy's used-up hole and staining the couch that didn't belong to them. Alex sighed and lay down on top of Geddy. Both of them were tired out and needed to regain their breath. Alex's fingers toyed with a strand of Geddy's hair. 

"I love you," Alex whispered, a blurry smile dawning on his chubby-cheeked face. 

"I love you too, Lerxst." Geddy's voice was airy and dreamlike. "...I guess being unpredictable and spontaneous can be good," he said after he regained his breath. 

"I guess we do need to keep a steady rhythm to keep everything feeling right," Alex replied, looking into Geddy's eyes. 

Geddy smiled sweetly at Alex, his arms coming up to encircle him and gently rub his back. "That machine head oil tasted really nasty, by the way."

"Sorry. Sometimes spontaneity can be messy."

"And sometimes we have to be shaken out of our rhythm."

They kissed, long and hard and hot, tasting each other.

After a while, Geddy crawled out from under his naked and sleepy guitarist. "I've just thought of an idea, hear this," he said, scrambling for a bit of paper with some of Neil's lyrics scribbled on it, and for his acoustic bass. 

"Okay, show me," Alex said. 

Geddy cleared his throat and pulled the bass in to rest on his naked body. "And the words of the profits were written on the studio walls," he sang as his fingertips danced across the bass frets, "concert hall...echoes with the sound of salesmen..."


End file.
